


Satyagraha

by Buttons15



Series: Overwatch Hogwarts AU [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 15:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7623670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buttons15/pseuds/Buttons15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the Hogwarts Overwatch AU. Gryffindor Fareeha notices some people have been giving her Hufflepuff friend Angela trouble, and decides to deal with it; fluffy and philosophical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satyagraha

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Radycat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radycat/gifts).



> Russian translation courtesy of [parselina](http://parselina.tumblr.com/) can be found [ here! ](https://ficbook.net/readfic/5073320)

When Fareeha Amari - fourth year and proud Gryffindor member – turned the corner, she found her friend Angela on her knees, grabbing her books from the floor, again _._ It wasn’t the first time she saw that, it wasn’t the second and it wasn’t the third. Between the two of them, Angela was definitely the brainy one, but it didn’t take much thinking to arrive to the conclusion that either her friend had terrible hand coordination – which she knew for a fact was not true – or _someone_ was throwing her things down on purpose.

Fareeha knew that with her quiet and passive temper and nerdy behavior, Angela was a bully magnet. That was, of course, utterly unacceptable. She walked to where the blonde was, piling up the last bits of her material, and cleared her throat to announce her presence.

“Aaah!” the hufflepuff yelped, startled, dropping her things all over again. “…oh. It’s you. Hi, Fareeha.”

Wincing, chiding herself for accidentally making things worse, she knelt down to help her friend out. She was quick to pick up the thicker volumes, since Angela was _so tiny_ and it was always a wonder how she was physically able to carry all that weight. The two stood up at the same time, Angela dusting herself and placing her wand on the front pocket of her robe. Then, the blonde opened her arms to take her things back.

“Uh-uh,” Fareeha shook her head, though she was not sure if the other could see it, because the eight piled books almost covered her face entirely. “I got this. I’ll walk you to the common room, Angel.”

As if to prove her point, she took a step ahead, but with null visibility, she tripped and almost plunged down to the ground.

“Son of a – I got this. Totally got this.”

The Hufflepuff tilted her head and graced her with the sweetest of smiles, then grabbed her elbow and slowly pulled, guiding the way. Fareeha mentally thanked her Egyptian ancestors for gracing her with a tan skin which conveniently hid little things like blushes.

“So, um,” she began, in an absolutely casual and innocent tone. “Anyone giving you trouble lately?”

“Mmm. Nothing I can’t handle – Watch the stairs.”

She did, carefully minding her steps, making sure to stay in the middle of the moving staircase because if she dropped anything from there, it’d be an absolute pain to retrieve it.

“Are you sure?” she insisted. “Because, if anyone is giving you trouble, I can, mmh, _talk_ to them.”

“Fareeha,” her friend tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “I can cast all the Defense Against the Dark Arts spells from year one to seven, and then some more. I’m really quite capable of self-defense.”

“And why don’t you? Why don’t you hex them?” She raised her voice a little, because it was a matter she was rather passionate about.

“Because,” the other paused. “I don’t believe in that.”

“You don’t believe… in hexes?” Fareeha shook her head, too angry to reflect upon the statement. “It really makes my blood boil that people are – they are – god, Angela, just give me the names.”

“Satyagraha.”

“Satyawhatchamacallit?” she babbled. “Write it down. With, you know, house and coursing year.”

Those adorable baby blue eyes twinkled, and Angela snorted. “That’s not a person, it’s a… life philosophy. You know, Gandhi?”

A puzzled look from the taller woman.

“…no?” The blonde gave her a light shoulder punch. “You should take muggle studies with me next term.” She closed her eyes and recited: “Satyagraha is a weapon of the strong; it admits of no violence under any circumstance whatsoever; and it ever insists upon truth. So said its creator.”

“Not much of a weapon,” she mumbled, stopping at the Hufflepuff common room entrance.

Angela shook her head and took the books from her arms, bending a little under the weight.

“Violence only causes violence. You’ll get it someday, I think…” she trailed off. “Thank you for your help, Fareeha. It’s always good to see you.”

“Anytime,” she replied, then stood by while her friend whispered the password and entered her common room.

And then, once the door was closed, Fareeha went out to hunt for those names, because god damn it, her friend might like muggle metaphors but _someone_ had to knock down the bullies with actual jinxes and perhaps some fists.

 

* * *

 

 

She spotted Angela leaning against a tree in the outsides of the castle, her eyes half-lidded, sunlight brushing her cheek. The rings around her eyes were deeper than usual, and though she had an open book on her lap, it was very clear by the way her head occasionally bobbed down that she was napping rather than reading.

Fareeha was torn between waking her to talk, letting her rest and picking her up bridal-style and carrying her to a proper sleeping place.  She quickly shot down the last option, and settled for just sitting down next to her instead. She did her best to be quiet, but ended up waking the other up anyway.

“Hi, Fa,” Angela mumbled, rubbing the sleep off her eyes. “Sorry I didn’t see you before. Just...tired.”

“Tests?” she queried, tossing her bag to the side and settling with her back against the tree trunk.

“Not today, no, just…” She reached for the rubber band that held her hair together and shook it free. “Long night at the hospital wing. Three sixth-year Slytherins with, umm, black eyes and rodent parts growing off unusual places.”

“Oh.”

A moment of silence.

“They weren’t… unfamiliar to me.”

Fareeha chose to keep her mouth shut. Suddenly, Angela moved closer, until their sides touched. She was warm, perhaps even a bit feverish, and the contact made the taller woman flush.

“You know anything about that?”

“Umm…no,” she blatantly lied.

“…you’re not subtle at all, Fareeha.”

The blonde rested her head against the Gryffindor’s shoulder, pressing herself against the other, her cheek touching Fareeha’s bare skin. Very slowly, the taller woman wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulder and pulled her closer.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered sincerely. “I know you don’t need me buying your fights, Angel, I just…” she didn’t finish.

“’Tis okay. I’m not mad.”

“Really?” she perked up.

An adorable little snort. Fareeha tentatively brought her free hand to Angela’s scalp and ran her fingers through the blonde locks.

“Violence only causes violence,” the other murmured, eyes closed. “That’s a lesson they are bound to learn… and so are you.” Her eyelids fluttered open. “They’ve met their match in you; you’ll meet your own match eventually. There’s always someone stronger.”

“I just have to be the strongest,” she stated, rubbing circles on top of her friend’s head. _For you,_ she completed mentally, then quickly pushed the intrusive thought aside.

Angela exhaled in a long, wistful manner. “No such thing. No one can be on top at all times. It’ll make you miserable to try, and it will make you miserable when you invariably fail. But –”

The blonde moved again, setting her head on Fareeha’s lap, rolling belly up to meet her gaze. The Gryffindor hesitated, unsure what to do with her hand on that new position, then chose to restart her – her –

_Not a caress. Just, umm, hair-stroking._

“ –but.” Angela resumed. “Dedicate your life to putting smiles on people’s faces, instead of overcoming them, and that shared joy can never be taken from you. Rather than the emptiness of violence and perceived power… faith, and respect, and truth and peace – those are things worth pursuing.”

“Sat-ya-something?”

Her friend grinned. “Mhm-hm. Gandhi.”

“What about justice, though?” Fareeha spoke out after a couple minutes. “Justice seems important. And sometimes justice can be rough.”

For a long moment, Angela didn’t reply, her breathing steady, and the Gryffindor was certain her friend had fallen asleep. And then, suddenly:

“Nietzche. Battle not with monsters, lest ye become one…” she trailed off, then mumbled, “…muggle studies with me next term. Patience and compassion…” Her mouth opened in a long yawn. “Justice is such a relative thing, Fa… life isn’t always fair. ‘Justice’ and ‘Guilt’ and ‘Right’ and ‘Wrong’… human inventions… very subjective. No such things in nature.”

“So is peace,” she pointed out.

“Mmmmhh…” Angela grunted. “Smart-mouthed today.”

“What, no clever counter-arguments?” Fareeha teased.

“Too tired,” Another yawn. “Just think… _think_. Hannah Arendt – evil comes from the lack of pondering. Think ‘bout… when you meet your match, and you end up broken. Watcha do then?”

She did. She thought about it long and hard, about power and violence and justice and peace, absently stroking Angela’s head all the while. She liked her things simple – good guys and bad guys, right and wrong, fair and unfair. Still, she pondered on it anyway, chasing stray bits of thoughts on morals and ethics until she found herself thinking in circles. She didn’t really arrive at any epiphanies, but she had a feeling Angela would commend the exercise anyway.

She eventually got distracted by the woman in her lap, fast asleep, her face a painting of calm and peace and compassion and all other things _good_ – and she felt she understood a bit of that exotic mind then, when she grasped at the inner strength of holding back instead of striking, the inner strength of resisting anger and forgiving. Moving her fingers down from the scalp, she brushed her thumb lightly against Angela’s flushed cheek, now thinking in different circles about sunlight on light skin and golden hair, about the body resting on her lap, about hands curled around her arm –

And then, like a lightbulb coming alit on her brain, she had an answer.

“I know,” she muttered, to herself rather than to her unconscious companion. “If I ever get beaten and cast down and broken…” she trailed off. “… I’ll look for you, and you’ll show me the way to be whole again.”

It might have been an impression, but for a split second, Fareeha was certain she glimpsed the ghost of a smile cross Angela’s face.

**Author's Note:**

> someone stop me


End file.
